on the eve comes a sombre

scarcely human human shiver

‘I’m dying’

like love exhausted her heart

her soul has

stained pure blood

For her future , present

She bites the cold of

your pity

But now

sometimes crashing

the poverty of boredom, old

curiosities

pure dreams find

themselves among

the linen which wraps

her pillow

muffling sobs, she tries to make

tenderness endure shadows